


the devil's jaws are far too weak

by ictus



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Drug Withdrawal, Episode: s01e04 Man on the Moon, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Missing Scene, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 14:11:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17962079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ictus/pseuds/ictus
Summary: Truthfully, it’s far from the strangest thing Ben’s ever done. When you grow up in a family as sick and twisted as the Hargreeves’, jerking off your brother in a motel closet while you’re waiting for hired guns to come back and finish the job is barely a blip on the radar, even if he is technically dead and Klaus shouldn’t be able to feel him at all.





	the devil's jaws are far too weak

**Author's Note:**

> Missing scene from s01e04 Man on the Moon, title from [Adeline by alt-J](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1XwU8H6e8Ts).

 

This isn’t the first time Ben’s seen Klaus like this—

Sweating and shuddering, body wracked by tremors as the drugs work their way out of his system, screaming and writhing against a pain that consumes him from the inside out. Klaus has always handled withdrawals badly, has always been left completely and utterly ruined by them, and Ben can count on one hand the number of times he’s survived them without some sort of external intervention. This isn’t the first time he’s seen Klaus like this.

It is, however, the first time he’s been stuck in a closet with him.

“Klaus,” he says, trying to pull his brother back to reality. “ _Klaus_. Breathe.”

And Klaus—contrary asshole that he always was—only hyperventilates harder at his words, his breath coming in sharp gasps even as he continues to scream through the gag. Ben resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“Look, you’re in the worst of it now, just try to stay calm.”

Klaus half-turns towards him and nods frantically, eyes squeezed shut against a fresh wave of tremors. His screams die in his throat, reduced to tiny whimpers that are stifled by the gag.

“That’s it, just keep breathing.” It’s instinct to reach out to Klaus, to try and soothe him; an old habit from a life half-remembered. Even as he’s extending his hand he’s already anticipating the empty feeling that comes with reaching for something that’s not there, of feeling his body glide through something that’s seemingly solid. But as he closes the distance between them—as his hand reaches the point where the empty air ends and Klaus’s body begins—he’s met with the slightest resistance.

“Klaus,” he says, jerking his hand back as if he’s been shocked. Klaus is lost in his own world, his eyes rolling back in his head as he fights off the panic. Cautiously, Ben extends his hand again and presses it flat against the bare skin of Klaus’s shoulder and Klaus—impossibly—leans back into his touch.

Ben’s voice catches in his throat. “Klaus, can you feel that?”

Klaus is silent for so long Ben wonders if he even heard him. But suddenly he’s nodding vigorously, his entire body shaking with it, and Ben can almost feel the muscles rippling under his fingers.

Ben’s head is spinning. He’s never been able to interact with the world of the living before, has never been able to touch anything real since his death. But now with the drugs working their way out of Klaus’s system, his power is intensified and Ben feels more real than ever.

Klaus whimpers again and Ben reaches out to run his hands over his shoulders, soothing. “It’s okay, I’m here,” he says, the words truer than they’ve ever been. He runs his hands in circular motions over Klaus’s shoulders and down his arms, trying to ease some of the tension out of them. He can’t feel Klaus’s skin—not exactly. It’s more like he’s remembering that feeling, the simple glide of skin on skin, the sense of touch that he’d taken for granted his entire life.

“That’s it, you’re doing better,” he murmurs as Klaus’s breathing begins to even out. Ben can feel a strange prickling under his skin, stranger for the fact that he hasn’t felt anything for as long as he can remember. He realises with some absurdity that he’s _hot_.

“Is it warm in here?” Klaus turns to him, wide-eyed and incredulous with a look that clearly says ‘ _Have you lost your goddamn mind?’_ which is perhaps a little rich, coming from him. It’s true that Klaus is covered in a fine sheen of sweat, but Ben had chalked that up to the withdrawal symptoms. “I think it’s warm in here,” he says, struggling out of his jacket and then his sweater. Now that the thought’s occurred to him, he can’t seem to think about anything other than the way that his skin is prickling with discomfort, the air feeling heavy and warm in the tiny closet.  

He’s pulled from his thoughts when Klaus groans again, his body wracked by a fresh wave of tremors. Ben doesn’t think twice. He pulls Klaus against his chest and holds him tight, wraps his arms around him and presses his cheek against Klaus’s. This close, he can feel Klaus’s heart thudding, an erratic beat that he feels his own chest like an echo. He’s struck by the memory of what that was like, to feel your heart race with fear or excitement, to feel the blood pulse through your veins in an exhilarating rush. 

“You’re alright. You’re gonna be alright.”

He keeps on like that, murmuring reassurances and holding Klaus close, running his hands over his skin in an attempt to keep him grounded. Klaus continues to whimper and struggle against his bonds, his eyelashes fluttering has he fights against losing himself to the sensations. As time goes on, Ben becomes aware that he can feel his own touch like a phantom caress on his skin, can feel the weight of Klaus’s anxiety heavy like a lead brick in his chest, can feel his own body shiver with the tremors that are making Klaus shudder. He redoubles his efforts, touching Klaus with intent now, running his hands over his chest, down his sides, tipping Klaus’s head back so it rests against his shoulder and there isn’t a single inch where their bodies aren’t pressed together. Klaus melts against him, welcoming his touch, and some of the anxiety in Ben’s chest begins to ease like a knot slowly coming undone. 

At some point Klaus shifts to get closer to him, and the movement tugs against the towel that’s still slung low around his hips. Suddenly, all the stress and tension that comes with seeing his brother kidnapped and tortured, of seeing him fight his demons and struggle through the worst pain he’s ever known, snaps like a fine wire, leaving nothing but incredulity in its place.

Klaus is hard.

“Seriously dude?”

Klaus turns back to him, eyes wide and beseeching.

“You know that at any moment those guys could come back, beat the shit out of you and leave you for dead?”

Klaus gives him a half-shrug that clearly conveys, _‘So? All the more reason.’_

Ben grits his teeth in distaste, holding Klaus’s gaze for a long moment even though he’d made up his mind in an instant. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Truthfully, it’s far from the strangest thing he’s ever done—in fact, that probably goes for both of them. When you grow up in a family as sick and twisted as the Hargreeves’, jerking off your brother in a motel closet while you’re waiting for hired guns to come back and finish the job is barely a blip on the radar, even if Ben is technically dead and Klaus shouldn’t be able to feel him at all. 

Klaus moans when Ben reaches for him again, his touch suddenly illicit now that it’s taken on a new purpose. He drags his hands down the planes of Klaus’s stomach and over his hipbones, feeling the phantom touch on his own skin and shivering with the unfamiliar sensation. He wraps his hand around the base of Klaus’s cock and squeezes firmly, the simple touch causing Klaus to sigh against him with his entire body.

“Is this okay?” he murmurs into the crook of Klaus’s neck. Klaus nods frantically against him, already angling his hips forward and seeking out more of the touch. Ben smirks into the skin of his neck and starts bringing him off in sure, even strokes, one arm braced against Klaus’s hips to hold him steady. “God I haven’t done this since I was—not in ages. And never with anyone else.” Klaus’s eyes are glazed and hooded and Ben’s not even sure his words reach him, but it doesn’t matter.

Ben tries to touch him the way he remembers liking it; firm, even strokes, a little twist at the head, and it’s not long before Klaus is whimpering through the gag, spurring him on. Gradually, Ben begins to feel a pleasure prickling in his gut and sparking up his spine, and this— _this_ he remembers. That feeling where the pleasure builds and builds until you feel like you’ll burst with it. He touches Klaus with renewed fervour, stroking more quickly now. He gently squeezes Klaus’s balls with his free hand, eliciting a groan from deep in Klaus’s throat that he feels reverberate in his own chest, then reaches lower to press his fingers against his perineum. Klaus writhes against the sudden pressure and Ben’s wrists ache with the second-hand pain of Klaus struggling against his bonds. But the pain gives way to a new pleasure that blooms deep in his gut, and Ben can feel it—this is it, the feeling mounting and hurtling him towards his release.

When Klaus comes it’s with a muffled shout, his muscles gone taut as his orgasm is wrung out of him. Ben’s hit by a wave of pleasure like a punch to the gut and he can’t help but moan and surrender to the sensation, his own muscles gone lax even as Klaus continues to shake and shudder against him. The feeling coalesces at his core then bursts outwards like ripples on the surface of a pond, extending all the way to his toes and his fingertips. For a long time all he can do is slump against Klaus—strangely breathless although he has no need for air—and feel the pleasure reverberate through his bones.

Klaus is still panting hard by the time Ben comes back to himself. His eyes are dazed and glassy, and he doesn’t respond when Ben says his name or squeezes his shoulder. But for the first time since they shoved him in this closet he’s blessedly still, and there are no signs of pain on his face. Ben knows that Klaus won’t remember this, will chalk it up to some withdrawal-induced delusion, some bizarre hallucination, and will move on with his life like nothing ever happened, but Ben—

Ben won’t forget this.

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/scansionictus).


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